Napoleone went down the steps two at a time until he reached the ground, while his brother and cousin lagged behind him. Lorenzo looked at the halfway point where Napoleone waved from the ground. Giuseppe was only three-quarters of the way through, determined. Before Lorenzo continued, wanting to catch up, but even at his quickest, he knew it was impossible. 

But if this was a competition asking them to go down while thinking, then Lorenzo would win. He used to go down the stairs while reading all the time, and not once tripped.

Napoleone folded his arms before raising his eyebrow. “Doesn’t Federico make you chase him?” 

As though trying to egg him on, as he walked down at his absolute fastest pace. Although Federico was a more quiet child than the boisterous Napoleone. 

“I used to remember when you were faster. Ah, brother, finally you joined me.” 

He slapped on his brother Giuseppe, who panted on the ground. 

Once he recovered, Giuseppe told him. “I doubt so, since he prefers books. And he has much to learn, regardless.” 

Lorenzo finally got down at last, Napoleone giving him a raised eyebrow. Why he was so slow? 

“And here I thought Luciano replaced you in chasing Napoleone?” He asked. 

“Yes, but I also end up chasing him when Napoleone isn’t around. Not to mention, I sometimes run out of the school just to get away from it.” 

Though Lorenzo, if he ever wanted to leave, just went to hide at the library. Giuseppe liked to sleep, while Napoleone was practical and had little time for books or reading. 

Napoleone already went to the dining hall, given his empty figure in the hallway. He already went in, Lorenzo and Giuseppe followed him into the room. Inside, here was only Cecelia, who was sitting next to cousin Elisa. 

Elisa was a perfect little angel, with Cecelia chatting with her. She never had a sister and often preferred to talk to her female cousins, though most of them were older than her. And the rest were younger. 

Napoleone looked. “Are they still talking?” 

Since they both went off with each other, though, his mother and aunt were always the last to come as they become already occupied with gossiping. There was so much that they could talk about, though he was never invited. But Cecelia had sometimes told him, and how she would write poetry in there once it veered into topics that she was all but uncomfortable about. 

Cecelia smiled. “They’re all still occupied. I mostly left since Mama dismissed me, or rather, to take care of Elisa.” 

She patted the head of the girl, who nodded. 

“What did you talk about?” Giuseppe asked, curious. 

Cecelia was the oldest girl they knew, and much of what a girl’s life entailed remained a mystery. Giuseppe sometimes envied how they never needed to do anything, but Lorenzo knew it was also a trap for them. 

“Marriage, the single most important event in a woman’s life,” Cecelia answered without hiding, a fact that she had to state. “I’m turning sixteen soon, and Papa had delayed it. But he needs to find a husband for me soon, as some girls at my age would have a fiancé.” 

That and he had a brush with death. 

Lorenzo blinked. “Do you want to?” 

“I have to,” Cecelia said. “Well, I either have to live off your income or with a husband to support me. So, it’s expected. Not as though you’re going to escape it.” 

He could feel the redness in his own cheeks, as muhc as he never wanted to go there. For so long, he would never marry, but not now. Giuseppe looked, Napoleone turned. 

“It makes sense. You’re the heir to a substantial estate. It’s expected that he wants it, although at least you’re not an only son and you have Federico as an heir.” Giuseppe slapped him on the back. 

“What do you seek for a husband, Cecelia?” Napoleone asked. “A dashing soldier, a wealthy young man, or perhaps an intellectual.” 

“Someone who can understand me and poetry, as long as he’s supportive of my love for it. Papa agreed to fulfill that only requirement for me.” Cecelia smiled at the thought. “Most of them wouldn’t really starve, as neither Papa nor Mama wouldn’t let me marry that man.”

It was the way of the world, though he wondered why it was absurd. But it was also one that made sense. But, it neglected the people itself, to make them fit into roles that sometimes were better adapted rather than completely worn over. 

However, it was a rational response, for marriage was little more than a partnership. Though his father was never unfaithful, and he perhaps wanted them to be happy in matrimony instead of only having a business partnership and leaving love to liaisons. 

Giuseppe gave a grin. “Have you thought about it?” 

They were just teasing him here. “I haven’t thought about it. I just have so much on my mind or I’m busy.” 

But he knew his parents were serious about getting him married. 

 

“I’m telling you so that you don’t feel surprised that they’ll tell you soon. They’re already compiling the list of eligible ladies.” Cecelia gave a knowing smile. 

Lorenzo knew its existence, though he would think it ridiculous that they have a list for her, but not for him. They were quite fair, though they could not change society to fit their ideas. But he had been called to testify or perhaps to vouch for or recount the men in their lives. 

There were certain guidelines, mostly to avoid relationships in which the pair hated the other person. If it was avoidable, it was advisable. In fact, the only ones who went to the altar to marry someone they loathed for the sake of duty were likely extremely high nobility or just royalty. Only they would need to do it. 

The rest, there were always enough partners to go around, and chances to meet them; Lorenzo could have some choice, even if it was illusory and remained within a narrow class. 

“I guess the only benefit is that it isn’t set or forced into stone,” he said. 

“Be glad that you’re eligible enough that fathers would hand their daughters over, with minimal negotiations,” Giuseppe told him. “Not like me. I’ll have to be settled first before they’ll find me even attractive.” 

However, Lorenzo didn’t want to think about fulfilling it so quickly. He looked at the cup and wondered how soon before it would happen. 

Footsteps broke his silence as he spotted two women coming in. 

Napoleone looked, Giuseppe raised his eyebrow. Cecelia stared. 

“I expected Papa and Zio Carlo to come in first,” she said. 

“So did I.” Giuseppe looked. 

“I wonder what they’re talking about, to where Zia Beatrice and Mama came first.” 

Letizia gave him a glare. “Just wait for him. He’s soon to join us.” 

“We usually talk a lot, Letizia.” Beatrice stopped him. “He’s making an observation.” 

Letizia shook her head before taking a seat. "They’re speaking their affairs. It may just be a heavy one. I’ll check on the other kids.”

Cecelia passed Elisa a snack, so that she wouldn’t complain. Letizia smiled at Cecelia, liking her thoughtfulness. 

She had a lot of younger children, and his cousins that he hadn’t had the time to see. He remembered they had another daughter, Carolina, who was born last year. There were a lot of them, and she was probably worried. But she left them all with a governess, preferring to handle the household chores on her own instead. 

They waited a bit more for his father and his Zio Carlo. The look on his father’s face was when he dealt with a troublesome tenant or a tricky situation. As for his Zio Carlo, he was pale and thinner than he had been when he last saw him. 

Carlo gave a smile to him, catching Lorenzo off-guard.

He would have expected Napoleone to talk back to his father, but he remained silent and kept his eyes away. Despite them always being at odds, he loathed his father for being a coward who refused to fight for his country and embracing French culture so thoroughly. 

Cosimo asked. “How is school?” 

The first question that he did, as he liked Napoleone and his ambitions and dreams of military glory. 

“Just another two years, and I can become a general,” Napoleone said. “I did well. I made the top of my class again.” 

Like Lorenzo, Napoleone was absolutely brilliant in his studies. The only topic was that they both were good at different things. His father accepted that and took pride when Napoleone adjusted.  

“Don’t get cocky. That is how defeat is usually delivered first. You understand that every battle is different and your opponents may learn new tricks too.” Cosimo mostly chided him with a smile. 

“So, how are you coping?” Carlo asked him. 

“Pretty well,” he said. “I’m mostly learning everything I can about the estate and I’m getting the hang of the administration. And thank you for giving me the books about laws.” 

He smiled, before almost looking disappointed. Lorenzo looked. 

“Later, we’ll be having a talk inside the study.” Cosimo looked at him. “We haven’t finished talking to each other, so once I’m done with him.” 

That long and they were still not done, Lorenzo had his own doubts. Napoleone gave him a look. He caught on, too. 

“Are you still in philosophy?” Carlo asked. 

“Yes, I am,” Lorenzo ansewred. 

“You kept giving him a lot of the books on them. I wondered whether this made you give it up.” 

“He just lent me them. I am giving them back this trip.” 

“I know them well. I am a bachelor of philosophy, after all.” Though if he was given his choice, he would have gone all the way to get a doctorate. But once he was done, he could pursue it. “It’s standard reading and far from obscure. I just lent him then. Hard to need it when it’s kind of already in your head.” 

Carlo smiled. “I see, of course.” 

“Although I wonder why do you need them, you regularly ask him?” Letizia asked. “They don’t really help you with your studies.” 

She was worried about them, as it could be a distraction. 

“I’m curious about it, perhaps, it just seems so interesting. Cousin Lorenzo is always helpful to explain what I did not understand,” he said. 

But hiding his own dissatisfaction with the world, and how rationality should reign instead. Birth had nothing to do with who won a war, but who was better able to exploit their resources and military to their advantage. 

Cosimo said nothing, although Carlo defended his son from that. 

Though they subdued into mostly light chatter, sometimes recounting tales about childhood or perhaps small matters. Then Cosimo and Carlo went up the steps. 

Napoleone had finished and glanced, while his mother brought his aunt again. Lorenzo was ready to return to work, as Giuseppe went to join Cecelia and Elisa. 

He was looking to join them. But Napoleone stopped him. 

“I think we should eavesdrop,” Napoleone suggested. 

Lorenzo was curious, but he was extremely uncomfortable. “Is this right?” 

“I’ll tell you if you’re being too loud. I mean, getting things out of them is like pulling teeth.” 

He was right. Both their fathers were incredibly tight-lipped when they could be. They both hid the truth, or the reality. Perhaps out of a need to not explain. 

But they weren’t children anymore. And he was worried.  

“Alright.” Lorenzo agreed.